I’ve always been fascinated by water.
It is mystical and ineffable, a conjunction between emptiness and fullness, between existence and nothingness.
Water, always in flow, takes and does not take shape, an incessant tumult of eternal transformation.
Flowing off our hands, it cannot be captured or possessed;
just to try alone reveals another of man’s futile attempts to control the incontrollable impermanence of existence.
Suspended between life and death, tied to the vital lymph that flows inside and around him, he is immersed in an incessant flow of appearing and disappearing like a wave in a timeless ocean.